


Can't Get You Out Of My Head

by CyanideSun



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Male Solo, Masturbation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-25
Packaged: 2018-05-28 23:09:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6349393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyanideSun/pseuds/CyanideSun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Random blurb I posted on Tumblr a while back. Thought I'd share here. Deacon can't stop thinking about Nora and sneaks off for some alone time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Get You Out Of My Head

Okay, she HAS to be doing it on purpose. Deacon was sure of it. No one is that sexy digging through scrap just by accident. It just isn't possible. The way she danced around that workbench, wiggling her hips in time to the music playing on her Pip-Boy, the tight vault suit leaving little to the imagination. Deacon was just glad he was wearing these sunglasses. He could follow her around with his eyes and she'd never even know he was-

"Can I help you with something?" Nora crossed her arms over her chest, her head tilted to one side. Deacon cleared his throat, trying to come up with a response that wasn't 'Bend over, I wasn't done checking out your ass.'

"Just watching the junk master at work, boss." He joked, smirking slightly. Nora rolled her eyes and continued scavving, but Deacon could have sworn she glanced back once or twice while she bent over to pick up the pieces.

Deciding what he needed was a few moments of "alone time," Deacon snuck away while everyone was busy admiring the new bunkhouse Nora and Sturges had thrown together. He wandered back into the trees toward the old ranger cabin, hoping to find some release from the teasing way Nora moved. He wasn't sure when he had started seeing her as anything more than a friend and partner, but ever since he's felt distracted. Consumed by the thought of her body, round in ways they didn't make in the wasteland anymore.

When he felt a sufficient distance away from the ruckus of Sanctuary, he bunkered down into some underbrush and unceremoniously unzipped his pants. His dick had been hard for what felt like hours, and throbbed slightly against the cool air. He ran his thumb over the head, which was already wet and eager for attention.

He closed his eyes and began stroking himself, unable to get the image of Nora's body bent over the workbench from his mind. He couldn't help picturing her completely naked over that workbench, her round ass in the air as she looked back at him, hungry lust filing her eyes. He imagined himself positioned right against her, running his dick along her dripping wet slit, listening to her call out his name, begging for him. He'd enter her slowly, letting her cry out for him, buck her hips into him until she screamed his name and came apart at the seams.

Deacon shot his load unceremoniously into the dirt, strings of white lost in the dead grass. Nora's name fell softly from his lips as his body trembled slightly. He sat there a moment, eyes closed and head back, trying to get her body out of his head.

The walk back to Sanctuary was a lot less tense than the walk out had been. He slipped back into the fray unnoticed by the settlers. He looked around and his eyes fell on the familiar blue vault suit. Nora caught his gaze and grinned that bright, white, pre-war grin at him and his breath caught in his throat. Fuck. She's doing it again


End file.
